


Please God

by prettybirdy979



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, The Adventure of the Three Garridebs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It was really quite a ridiculous case. Sherlock had almost refused it as he really wasn’t interested in finding anyone’s lost relative. Nor was he interested in aiding a fraud, which he confided to John he suspected the request was.</i> </p><p>Modern take on the Three Garridebs with a minor (or major) twist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PipMer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipMer/gifts).



It was really quite a ridiculous case. Sherlock had almost refused it as he really wasn’t interested in finding anyone’s lost relative. Nor was he interested in aiding a fraud, which he confided to John he suspected the request was.

But then the man mentioned in the letter, a John Garrideb had visited Baker Street.

"Who are you to interfere in private business?" Garrideb had demanded as he burst into their flat. John had risen slightly from his seat but Sherlock had waved him down.

"Mr Garrideb." Sherlock had said tonelessly. “You plan on returning to America soon?" 

The man had blinked. “What?"

"You’ve been in England a while, judging by your accent. I was wondering if you had planned a return visit soon."

Garrideb had been taken back and Sherlock’s question seemed to have distracted him from his anger. “I thought that your deductions weren’t…real."

Sherlock had rolled his eyes. “Yes, well they are. Don’t bother sitting down, as I told Mr Garrideb I don’t do missing relatives."

"We’re not related, at least not as far as I can tell." Garrideb ignored Sherlock and sat, though John had noticed that Sherlock eyes had flashed with trumip when he did. “It’s a wonder really, but I found this old will in a bunch of official documents and-"

Sherlock had cut him off. “Yes, I’m aware. If you find two other men with your name there’s an estate being held by the US government for you. You just need to pay a few fees and it’s all yours."

"You think it’s a fraud."

"It’s highly suspect." Sherlock said and John raised an eyebrow at his unusual diplomacy. Sherlock shook his head slightly to make sure John said nothing.

"It’s not fake." Garrideb had said simply and left.

Sherlock’s curiosity had spiked. He had contacted the original Garrideb, Nathan, and found, to his amazement, that John Garrideb was offering to cover all costs. There was no risk, no need for fraud.

Sherlock had then dragged John out to visit Nathan Garrideb and found themselves in a cluttered flat of antiques. Sherlock had frowned when they had been told they held little value.

It was at that moment John Garrideb had shown up, waving his phone in their faces with a website in the name of Garrideb and convincing Nathan to go and visit the address. Sherlock had been suspicious of the whole deal.

Which is how John now found himself hiding behind a pile of books more dusty than Sherlock’s, waiting for John Garrideb to show.

"He might not come-"

"He’ll be here." Sherlock said shortly. “He’s-" A noise from outside caused him to cut himself off. John drew his gun silently. 

John Garrideb slipped into the room. He looked around the room, then moved towards the middle of it and bent down to examine the floor.

Sherlock stepped out and John followed, his gun raised. Garrideb looked up at the noise and he glared at the pair. 

"Well, the game is up." He said coldly as he rose to his feet, looking down the barrel of John’s gun. “You-"

He drew a gun in a moment and John collapsed as two shots rung out. Sherlock reacted, slamming into Garrideb and pushing him into a pile which tumbled down on top of them. Sherlock grabbed the first blunt item to hand and beat at Garrideb’s head until the man was unconscious. He grabbed the man’s gun.

It then registered that John hadn’t gotten up. Or said anything. Sherlock turned and rushed to his friend’s side. 

His chest was red. He’d been shot in the shoulder-the same shoulder- and Sherlock felt himself begin to panic. Taking a deep breath, he called Lestrade. Barking off the address, he hung and put his jacket on John’s wound.

"You’re not leaving here alive." He said calmly to Garrideb, who was beginning to stir. Sherlock fingered Garrideb’s gun and calulated angles.

*********

John woke up. 

It was a pleasant surprise. He could feel pain, but it was in a vague sense as if it was happening to someone else. He had felt like this before, when he had been shot in his shoulder.

Dimly he registered the pain was in the same shoulder. Before he had time to panic, to wonder if Sherlock was a wonderful dream a voice spoke.

"Stay awake." Sherlock demanded.

"Hard." John whispered. A hand slipped into his. 

"I know. Do it anyway." John felt a weight rest on him and he flicked his eyes open for a moment to meet Sherlock’s eyes.

"Hurts." He whimpered.

Sherlock frowned and placed a hand on John’s cheek. “Rest then." John’s eyes opened and once again met Sherlock’s. The depth of emotion in them was so strong… John could do nothing but follow his friend’s request.

As he drifted off he could have sworn he heard Sherlock whisper into his ear.

"I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. Please God, let you live."


End file.
